The sky was blue on September 12th, too

Like so many other people this week, I found myself lost in thoughts of seven years ago, remembering. Indulge me as I take a detour from the tone of my normal postings, and reflect on where I was this week in 2001...

Do you remember how blue the sky was? All along the east coast, it was a stunningly clear day, bright and clean, and a welcome reprieve from the summer. A perfect fall day. Normal, everyday, happy. Until.

Until the phone call from my husband that sent me to the television, and we saw the second plane hit. You know the story from there. We all do. The phone lines were jammed; the news, stammered by reporters as stunned as we were, became an instant addiction. The world tilted for me as the pentagon was hit, then as the impossible happened--the towers fell. I was convinced then that more terrible things really could happen, and would keep happening.

Anxiety, not a stranger to me on any day, was overwhelming that afternoon. The day was wrongly beautiful. The sky, eerily silent and empty of any planes, was sharp with blue and cloudless, yet the birds and crickets continued to sing, the sun continued blithely across the sky. Lines from Auden's poem, Funeral Blues, kept popping into my mind:

The stars are not wanted now; put out every one,
Pack up the moon and dismantle the sun,
Pour away the ocean and sweep up the woods;
For nothing now can ever come to any good.

The sky was perfectly clear on September 12th, too. And I was, admittedly, at a safe remove. I was near Washington DC at the time, but not in it. But "safe" was something I wouldn't feel for a long time. The low drone of fighter jets crossing the sky all night woke me for weeks, and comfort eluded me for much longer.

2974 people died in those attacks that day, and our world did indeed tilt off its comfortable axis. Peace to their souls and their families...

More uses for chalkboard paint: An art wall

I keep finding ways to use chalkboard paint. Fun and useful, it finds its way into many of my projects. Here is the most recent project: an art wall.

With school starting, we will need another place to put Ada's creations. Right now, we hang some on walls, and the rest go into an art portfolio we use to save favorites. But wouldn't it be nice to really display them, with comments and dates? My big idea is to rotate the artwork every few weeks, including some from Ada, and some from Esme, and let this be their wall of pride.



Some tips on how I did this:

• The "frames" are actually gallery canvases in various dimensions, which I painted with several coats of chalkboard paint.
  I used this style frame because the depth on the gallery canvas sets off so well against the wall.
  
• I hung them as I would other canvas paintings--putting very small screw-eyes into the interior, and wrapping a picture wire through the eyes.
  
• Because I don't want these frames sliding around the wall each time I change out the art, I anchored them to the wall with a little velcro dot on the underside of each frame. One side goes on the wall, and one side goes on the frame. If you do this, learn from my past mistakes: don't undo the sticky on the wall side until you've got the frame where you want it--and level. I used a little level to assist, and it made a difference. I put the dots in the corners like this:
  
  
• To hang the art, we're just using doublestick tape. I don't know if it will eventually peel the paint from the canvas, but that is easily fixed--unlike a whole wall.
  
• Leave room under each piece for notes with a chalkpaint marker (love these too!), et voila!
  
• When the exhibit changes, just swap out the art and erase the old entry.
  

Photo Flashback

We found this photo recently after reminiscing about our surrey. Here's a shot of me when I was seven. Now they love it as much as I did, and the tradition continues...

Joyful moment

Sometimes our awareness of the world unclouds for a swift and fleeting moment, and for just that instant, you can feel the amazing gift of your own life. I love these joyful moments, and I try to hold onto the memory of each one when they come.


You must know what I mean--you are toodling along through your life, doing something very ordinary, when something strikes you as particularly poignant. And for that brief moment, you realize how full and beautiful and perfect life is, just as it is in that space of time. If I am lucky, I can hold that feeling for a few minutes--and then it's back to the routine perceptions of everyday life.

One morning last week I was hit by that feeling again while washing the breakfast dishes. The air was late-summer cool, and filled with lazy cricketsongs, and it flowed in the window near the sink. I turned on the faucet, watched the soap bubbles and steamy air as it floated around my face, and suddenly I was profoundly happy. While washing dishes.

Call it an epiphany, call it a brief rapture, call it crazy. But as mundane as life can be, it is a blessing just to be. In fact, mundane itself is a blessing. I am grateful for the slow times, my uneventful seasons, my simple routines. It is a fortune indeed to have dishes to wash, a sink to wash them in, and senses to notice the tiny beauties that surround the most basic of days.

May we all have these moments, shimmering, delicate, and fleeting as soap bubbles.

Harvest time: part one

The garden is full of goodness this time of year, and I'm going to share my goodies with you--well, photos of them, at least.

This photo is a bit rough, but I like it--the texture and variations in color are really interesting to me. It looks how it feels under your hand--sort of bumpy and sticky and smooth all at once.

Anyway, this is just one of the enormous sunflowers that grew this year--the tallest is over 12 feet tall, and the heads are the size of dinner plates. I have no idea what made them giants this year and not last year, but they are glorious to look at. And the seeds are good, but very labor intensive. Drying them out and salting them is no big deal, but eating them is another story.


Following the model of how to make pumpkin seeds, we soaked them in saltwater overnight, then salted them, and baked them for 4 hours in a low oven. When they were done, they smelled great, and so I just popped a few of those salty little guys right in my mouth, like roasted pumpkin seeds. Which they are not. After hacking and sputtering out a few of the shells, I figured out --uh, you don't eat the shells. No kidding. Which is why I have never seen sunflower seeds sold this way in the store. Come to think of it, even the birds leave the shells on the ground...


After hulling a few to get the meats, we agreed that while the seeds are tasty, they might not be worth the effort right now. Looks like we'll be saving the heads for the birds to eat this winter. Sharing the harvest, as I said.

A Visit to the Aquarium

Some images from our trip to the aquarium:

It is always good to know where you are.


A friendly face? The girls are not really sure...


Slow and steady, this guy freaked me out a bit. He kept following us and giving us the eye.


Esme loved watching all the fish. And I loved watching her see these for the first time.


I love this shot of the girls being peaceful and sharing. Glad I caught it when I did, as the slurpee spilled, and the crying ensued seconds after I took this photo.

All in all, it was a great trip, with swimming in the hotel pool (always a favorite!), and some side visits to Chinatown, where we had lovely noodles and pork, and found some great things for decorating the studio.

Renegade Snail

Sarah the snail has a itchy foot...and she was on the move Monday night. Someone (ahem, Esme!) left the lid off the terrarium. We caught Miss Sarah near the ceiling on Tuesday morning, but not until everyone including the cat had a chance to ooh and ahh over how high she got on the window casing. I must say, Sarah does sort of match the color scheme in the kitchen.


I still can't believe these snails are around. Ada started collecting them in May, and I was skeptical at best about their "petness." I figured the first one would last a week at best. But both girls love them, and Ada tends to them well. Apparently. Now the snail census has increased to nine (nine!), I have to say they are sort of growing on me. Well, not growing on me! But creeping, sometimes, yes. No, really, they aren't that gross, I promise. But I do prefer the rabbit, if I have to play favorites.